Frozen Scourge
by SapphireIceheartt
Summary: Ghouls, Geists, Deathknights, and Cultists. Members of the Scourge. They all have stories. A companion series that takes place between the timelines of my stories, Frozen Cataclysm and Frozen Revolution, that focuses on members of the Scourge. Warning: Do not approach or feed undead. Violators will have their brains eaten or hearts torn out...literally. I am not kidding.
1. Tryg the Ghoul

New mini-stories that I have come up with. Stories about undead. An undead living in any of the major towns I have made in my Frozen Sapphire series. Scourgeholme, New Alterac, even Icecrown Citadel. Any undead can have a story. Ghoul, geist, plaguehound, deathknight. I could make a story on that undead that made the candy store in ScourgeholmeCultists could even have a story. Even cultists maybe. One of the children raised by cultists or deathknights, and their opinion of the Scourge. They don't have to have Sapphire in them, but they can. But I am trying to make other characters. Suggestions are welcome!

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><p>"Servants! Wake up!"<p>

The ghoul lifted his head from the ground, and blinked. A cockroach skittered over his hand. Tryg snatched at it, but it nimbly escaped his claws.

"Aw...No breakfast. Me unhappy," Tryg sighed.

He left his room, peering out. His room was an old prison cell. The old prison doors had been replaced with ones of wood. The corridor was brightly lit, and Tryg had to rub his eyes at the brightness. Other ghouls and geists were leaving their rooms. Not all of the undead lived in the old dungeon, but the special ones did.

A burly deathknight was standing at the entrance, arms folded. Tryg perked up, and waved.

"What I do today?" He asked cheerfully.

The deathknight narrowed his eyes. "You have kitchen duty today, ghoul. Get to it. Breakfast starts in two hours."

Tryg didn't question. He went off up the stairs, and reported to the kitchen. He wasn't allowed to handle food directly, but he moved around sacks of flour and crates of fruit and vegetables. He collected dirty dishes and put them in sinks, but the only undead allowed to clean them were skeletons. Tryg didn't like skeletons. They scared him, with all of their bones, and empty eye sockets.

Tryg was allowed to serve the food, which he liked. Sometimes the living people would say thank you. Some were nice to Tryg. He was a special ghoul. Favorite of the Lich King. Tryg was friends with the Master, and more specifically, pretty Sapphire. Pretty, pretty, nice Sapphire. She was so nice to Tryg. She treated him like an equal, treated him like a deathknight or a cultist. Ethan sometimes did so, prodded by Sapphire.

The kitchens smelled nice when it was meal time. Tryg still had enough of his old memories to tell him what some foods were. He remembered pancakes, biscuits, bacon, and salted ham. All of the smells were nice. Coffee and milk were the major drinks. Fruit juice was rare still in the Scourge. The farms that were set up in Sholozar were not very large. Meat was in abundance with shoveltusk, mammoths, and other herbivores. Tryg knew that by all the boasting deathknights did about hunting the animals. Strawberries thrived in the Howling Fjord, along with wheat, sweet potatoes, and pumpkins. Mushrooms were a staple, easy to grow. Candied mushrooms was a favorite. Tryg loved mushrooms, and ate whatever he could find, even poisonous ones.

He thought about mushrooms while serving food, he didn't hear the orders from the cultists.

"Ghoul! Did you hear me?"

Tryg lifted his head. "No...My bad. No hurt me."

The woman just sighed in frustration. She pointed to a couple of prepared dishes.

"This is to go the Lich King's table. Understand?"

Tryg's dead eyes didn't brighten, but he did inside. He liked serving the Lich King.

"Okay. I take it to Master."

He took a tray, holding it tightly. He wouldn't want to spill it. A cultist and two other ghouls took some more food trays. Tryg followed them, going to the private quarters of the Lich King.

Entering into the dining room, Tryg was excited. Sapphire was there, visiting from her home. She looked up, and saw Tryg.

"Oh, Tryg! Good morning. How are you?"

"Good! Bring food."

Sapphire smiled. Ethan was leaning back in his chair, feet propped up on the table.

"Do you have my biscuits and gravy? My mother used to make the best biscuits and gravy."

Tryg and the other undead set the food out. Sapphire had pancakes, complete with a lot of butter, and a whole jar of syrup. She spread the butter on the pancakes, then promptly drowned them in sugary syrup. The royal family got the best food of all, which including having fruit juice. Tyrg was smart. He knew Ethan liked apple juice. But Sapphire had discovered a mixture of three different types of fruit. She could not get enough of it. Arthas was fine with watered down wine. Sapphire's mean mother wasn't there that day. The cute baby Sapphire and the white haired baby thing were in little cradle like chairs. They had mushed up food that even Tryg found unappetizing. Sapphire occasionally stopped eating to feed her baby.

Ethan ate his biscuits, and stated they were not as good as his mother's. Sapphire stated her pancakes were the best, sticking her tongue at Ethan. The boy just reached out for a chunk of cheese, and ham.

The other undead left, but Tryg stayed. Sapphire held out a piece of ham. "Hey, Tryg. You hungry?"

The ghoul nodded, and took the ham. It was sugared ham, which tore easily into eatable pieces.

Sapphire looked at the cultist, who stood there in case the family needed anything. "Can I borrow Tryg today? I need to move my old stuff out of my room and could use an extra hand."

"Yes, my lady. Of course."

Ethan frowned. "I could help."

"No. You and Dad are talking politics today and are going to have some fun with angry Vrykul. Tryg and I can empty my old room for little Angelica."

Ethan scowled. "I'd rather do that than deal with giants. And Arthas."

The Lich King looked at Ethan. "Thanks, Ethan. Comparing me to ill-tempered Vrykul."

Sapphire finished her pancakes, using the pieces to soak up the leftover syrup. She drained her glass of juice, and pushed her chair away. She

"Come on Tryg."

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><p>The undead helped Sapphire all day. He liked Sapphire's old stuff.<p>

Little books with pictures made Tryg not even want to work anymore. He just wanted to read the simple sentences and look at the colorful pictures. But Sapphire promised him she would let him read them later. Her baby was watching them curiously. He was a quiet baby, while the little Sapphire was so annoying and crying all of the time.

There were old clothes that needed to be disposed of. But Tryg rubbed his face against the furs so much that Sapphire decided that Tryg could use them as a bed. She let him have the furs. A few old necromancy books. Old papers that Sapphire drew on or wrote silly childish stories. Sapphire stacked them all up, and planned to put them in her father's study, along with the books. A couple of plushies were to be given to the babies. Tryg swept up pieces of trash and bones. A couple of bone necklaces ended up around Tryg's neck. He sniffed around, hoping to find a rat or something to eat.

He looked around, and found a leather collar behind some toys. He held it up.

"What this?"

Sapphire glanced over to him. "Oh...That's the original collar I had. Wow. I thought that was gone. I suppose I better keep it. As a bitter memento."

Tryg nodded happily, and handed it to her. Then, he went over to the bed. He jumped onto it, and smiled at Sapphire.

"I want nap. We done now?"

Sapphire inspected their work. She seemed happy. "That's good. You can take your spoils, Tryg."

The undead smiled, and nodded. He picked up everything, and started to leave. But Sapphire hugged him before he left. Tryg smiled.

The undead took everything to his small room. He laid out all of the old clothes into a circular nest so he could curl up into a ball. He placed the books in a stacked pile neatly in the corner. Keeping the necklaces around his neck, Tryg left his room again, and went back to the kitchens. It would soon be lunch.

Tryg spent the rest of the day happily working in the kitchens. He cleaned out the pantries, cleaned the communal tables in the dining room, and even set mousetraps with little pieces of food. He liked mice rather than rats, but mice ate food that wasn't there.

After everything was done, he dealt with dinner, again went to serve Sapphire and the Master. And after a long day of smelling spices and good food, Sapphire invited him to eat with them. Tryg loved Sapphire.


	2. Scourgeholme

A little different that what I had in mind for this series, but someone asked for it and it seemed more appropriate here than in my mini-stories. A better idea on what Scourgeholme is like. I can imagine a brochure with a smiling undead on it, telling people to come to Scourgeholme. I was asked once ingame where I would live if I was in Azeroth. I think I said Darnassus but I can't remember.

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><p>Scourgeholme.<p>

A darker version of the shining human city of Stormwind. Instead of white stone walls and crenelations, there were harsh saronite walls, and spiked towers. It is roughly the same size as Stormwind, with a smaller population. Equally similar was that Scourgeholme is divided up into different districts. The southern city was warm, and had bright blue water flowing through its canal systems. The people of Stormwind wore light clothing. People in Scourgeholme wore thick robes, or furred clothing. Instead of nice water, glowing green liquid bubbled in canals, for water would freeze in the cold. Scourgeholme was bombarded with snow and wind nearly everyday. The worst of the storms appeared at night, when the only ones outside were the figures that would give the citizens of Stormwind nightmares.

Deathknights, sitting aside demonic deathchargers, undead horses whose eyes glowed blue like their master's, and showed extreme dislike toward the living. The horses wore armor decorated with real skulls, and their hooves felt like ice, and were as hard as diamonds.

With their faithful mounts, deathknights guarded Scourgeholme. Most of them were young. Some might look like middle aged men and women, but they were like children, barely undead for a year some of them. Others were a couple of years old into their undeath, and knew how to kill with ease. Perhaps one deathknight out of ten was considered old. They were not wasted with guard duty. The younger ones had to go along the streets, over the bridges and the ramparts of the city walls. Other guards took the form of rotten ghouls, stony gargoyles that looked like they didn't move until with a whoosh of their wings, they flew up and glided over the city.

In the day, the city was filled with people and activity. Market Square was the district that visitors see first upon entering. Where everyone goes at some point in the day, either to buy something, to sell something, or to enjoy nice warm fires that burned always, fueled by magic. The people of Scourgeholme could buy anything from shining jewelry, leatherbound books, steaming drinks to warm up the body, fashionable clothing with dark runes and skull patterns, children toys, or household supplies.

If you lived in Scourgeholme, there were several places you might live. With a beating heart, you would live in Cultist Town, the district which is full of residents with architectures of many cultures. Only a few buildings weren't houses. An apothecary for medicines in case of sudden ailments. A relatively small school. A few restaurants. The famous candy store, run by an undead who had been a baker when still alive. Orcs, humans, dwarves, elves, and every other race represented lived in Cultist Town. Not a lot of undead lived in Cultist Town, because they had a separate district all to themselves. The Undead district.

Cultist Town was full of varieties of houses. The undead district strictly adhered to buildings made of saronite, and looked more like miniature versions of Icecrown Citadel than what most people thought houses should look like. The undead lived here, with lives more or less similar to their living neighbors. The lesser intelligent ones, with their bodies and minds more decayed than others, worked as servants for the living and were for manual labor. The more intelligent ones had jobs that required fully capable minds. Some undead adopted children, orphans that used to be crowded into orphanages from the cities of the living. Some undead married the living cultists, and moved to Cultist town. The living children of the undead would eventually move there too, unless they decided to stay with their parents.

Near the Undead district was the Plague Quarter. Named after the wing in the great necropolis, Naxxramas, the Plague Quarter is where necromancers, alchemists, and researchers. Under severe guard, they deal with anything dealing with the plague and undeath. They work with deadly fungus, toxic slime, and highly venomous spiders. They also deal with the health of undead. If a ghoul's arm has fallen off, a necromancer or cultist will stitch it back up. If an undead has lost a leg, eye, or intestine, they will be given a replacement along with instructions on how to prevent it from happening again.

The Park is the place to relax in Scourgeholme. Gigantic, tree sized mushrooms spread their caps over the fields of cold-resistant plants and snow. Undead and tundra animals wandered the walled district. Penguins were a favorite with children, as were rabbits and birds that looked like fluffy chickens. Tamed shoveltusk browsed yellowed grass. Roses grew next to paved paths. A greenhouse, with thickened glass and magic heaters, grew plants that were more suited to Stormwind grew in carefully tended pots. A purple flower, which used to go by the name the Stratholme lily, was grown and sold to everyone.

The last quarter, which takes up the rough middle of the city, is the Grey Quarter. Governor Fordragon lives here with his wife, Calia Menethil. His house, which is referred to as the Governor's citadel, was the largest building in the city. He is religious, and has made the Grey Quarter both governing center and the religious center. While the Cathedral of Darkness is the ultimate authority on the Scourge's religious teachings, Governor Fordragon has pushed the Light into the Scourge. There are two churches in the Grey Quarter, one for the Light and one for the Dark. And though the governor's house is called a citadel, it is actually a cathedral. The Grey Cathedral. Here, Governor Fordragon teaches anyone who comes in about the balance between the Light and Dark. His paladins, while using the Light's gift to heal and protect, were raised on the teachings of the Scourge. They are called the Grey Paladins.

But Scourgeholme doesn't just make up what lays in its walls. On the hills surrounding it, what remained of the original Scourgeholme still stood against the wind. Broken ziggurats that might still have bones or Nerbuian husks laying forgotten amongst the rubble. Underneath it, spread throughout tunnels, is also Scourgeholme. The Tunnels is where people work with providing food to the city above. The living still need to eat. Jormungar, giant wormlike creatures adorned with spines, are used as food. They are raised in the icy tunnels and provide meat. Mushrooms, the staple food in Scourgeholme, are grown underneath the city, in enclosed caves with humid, warm air. Mushrooms are used in everything, from simple mushroom soup, to spicy fried mushrooms. Children loved the candied mushrooms that are sold at the candy shop. It is said that even the Lich King enjoys them.


	3. Ni'kua

Fun fact! I got Ni'kua's name is from a book. Only that Nikua was a female I think(One of the books called her a he, so I am not sure), and her teeth were poisonous. The book's main antagonist was similar to the Lich King. He was an elf that was trying to save his people, so made an unholy sword and became an evil undead entity that wanted to destroy all life. Kinda similar.

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><p>Ni'kua woke up to the sound of mad barking. He raised his head up.<p>

He was in a fenced off area, where the undead dogs were allowed to roam free.

Other plaguehounds were fighting with each others. They snapped and tored at each oher. Fur and skin flew everywhere. Glowing eyes glared with hatred.

Ni'kua laid his head down, and closed his eyes. He didn't feel like breaking up the fight. Only if Ethan told him to would he jump into any brawl between other dogs.

"Ni'kua!"

The plaguehound looked up, unhappy. Ethan was there, scowling.

"What are you doing? Get them."

Ni'kua jumped up, and bared his teeth. He growled at the other dogs. They ignored him, which was their mistake.

The large plaguehound slashed at them, biting muzzles and ears, and they quickly cowered down, tails tucked between their legs. They whimpered, and did not meet Ni'kua's eyes. He snorted at them, and looked at Ethan.

"Good boy, Ni'kua. Come here."

The plaguehound trotted over to the boy, and was rewarded with a good earscratch. Ni'kua woofed, and panted.

"You want to go kill something? Huh boy?"

Ni'kua's ears went straight up. His tail wagged.

Ethan took Ni'kua out of the pen, and took him to the forest that was nearby. The boy bent over, and grinned at Ni'kua.

"Go wild. Try not to kill anything too cute though, or Serenity will get upset."

Ni'kua blinked at him, then and ran off.

He ran through the forest, jumping over fallen logs and frightening off squirrels. They fled up the trees, and chattered angrily at the dog. Ni'kua didn't bother with squirrels.

When he finally stopped, Ni'kua was in a clearing full of wildflowers. He looked around, sniffing.

There, on the other side of the clearing, was a couple of rabbits. They were eating some of the flowers, unaware Ni'kua was there. He growled quietly, and sunk down into a stalking position. He took several silent steps forward. His eyes were locked onto one of the rabbits, a furry brown one. He bared his teeth.

His claws dug into the dirt. The wind blew across his fur, taking his scent of undeath away from the prey. Ni'kua narrowed his eyes, and took a step forward.

One of the rabbits raised its head, and twitched its ears. Ni'kua froze, and waited for it to go back to eating.

The rabbits suddenly ran, as two little plaguehound puppies ran through the meadow barking as loudly as they could. The rabbits fled into their holes, and Ni'kua woofed unhappily. He collapsed onto the ground, growling.

Rot and Terra, came trotting over to him, barking. They twirled around, and climbed up onto him. Terra got her foot stuck in-between two of his exposed ribs. Rot tugged at Ni'kuas torn ear, and stepped onto his muzzle. They both licked him and hopped up and down on his body. They bit his tail, sniffed his paws, and rolled around in his fur. Ni'kua snorted.


	4. Elder Walthorn

Sapphire was walking down Scourgeholme, after she had gone shopping. She'd found a nice saronite wolf paperweight, and several chew toys for Ethan in the Plague Paws pet shop. Sapphire had been eating some candy she'd bought when she chanced upon a nice building in the Undead Quarter.

It had a nice courtyard, with all kinds of poisonous mushrooms. The entrance was gated, and on the saronite wall was a plaque. It said "Scourgeholme's Nursing Home for Undead."

The girl looked at it in confusion.

"Nursing home?"

She pushed the metal gate, and entered. A cultist was sitting at the building's doors and sat up when Sapphire came up.

"Hello. Are you visiting anyone today?" The woman asked.

"Uh...I was just curious. What is this place?"

The cultist put down the book she had been reading, and stood up.

"If an undead has extensive repairs to be made, or are really old, they come here to stay. The injured ones have to wait for parts to be found, so we take care of them and keep them from getting bored. Do you want to come in?"

Sapphire shrugged. "Okay."

The cultist opened the doors, and Sapphire followed her.

Sapphire saw dozens of undead. They lay on beds, sat in chairs, or were escorted around by cultists. Some read newspapers, or the ones without eyes were read to. Most of the undead were missing arms or both legs. Two even had nothing below their chest, propped up with many pillows.

Some undead were playing around in the main room with children's toys.

Sapphire looked around at the undead.

"Aw, these poor guys. I'll ask Dad if we can't find a place for body parts. Maybe some graveyard no one uses anymore," Sapphire suggested to the cultist.

"That would be wonderful! Oh...Elder Walthorn, look who has visited us. The Lich King's daughter."

A skeleton, yellowed with age and covered in cracks was sitting at a table. He had been playing with a dead rat.

"What?" He yelled, turning to look in the opposite direction of Sapphire and the cultist.

"The Lich King's daughter!" The cultist yelled back.

"The licking slaughter? I'd join in if I had a tongue."

Sapphire couldn't help giggling. The skeleton heard, and scratched his head. One of his fingers fell off. His glowing blue eyes looked at Sapphire. He reached over for a set of thick glasses, and put them on.

"Hello, young man."

Sapphire stopped laughing, the smile off of her face. She raised her voice so he could hear her. "Uh, I'm a girl."

The skeleton reached out, and touched Sapphire's chest.

"Oh. Whoops. My mistake. I think I am getting a bit scrabbled in the brain. I'm three hundred years old you know."

Sapphire decided not to point out he didn't even have a brain, but she just smiled and sat next to him.

"My name is Sapphire," She said.

"Your name is Quagmire?"

"Sapphire!" She shouted. The skeleton covered the sides of his head where his ears would have been.

"No need to shout, young lady. I ain't that old."


	5. Arthas Menethil Fan Club

Ethan was looking over a display of necklaces in the only jewelry store in the Scourge. All of them were made of saronite chains, with brilliantly colored jewels. They were priced rather reasonably, better than the jewelry in Stormwind or Ironforge, but they used different metals than saronite which might cost more. But Sapphire didn't really like gold. Silver was all right, but saronite was her favorite.

He was deliberating over buying a thick ring with a huge sapphire on it, or a skull necklace with tiny sapphires set in the eye sockets.

There was a giggling, and Ethan looked around.

A couple of young girls, one draenei and a human, were staring at him, smiling and whispering.

Ethan cleared his throat, and turned back to the jeweler. He looked at Ethan hopefully.

"I think that necklace is nice. I'll take it."

The undead took out an ornate box while Ethan pulled out his money. The necklace went into the box, and Ethan paid for it. He took the box and turned around. The girls were right there next to him.

"Hi."

"You're Ethan," One stated.

He nodded. "Yeah..."

"You're the Lich King's son-in-law," The other giggled. Their eyes were bright, and they looked eager.

"What's his favorite color?"

Ethan tilted his head "Huh?"

"The Lich King...Arthas. What's his favorite color?"

He stared at the girls. They started giggling.

"Uh...I never felt the need to ask him."

The girls suddenly looked downcast. One of them gasped.

"We should take Ethan to our club. He's almost as cute as Arthas."

The other girl squealed in agreement. Ethan took a step back, but they grabbed him and dragged him out of the room. Ethan would have struggled, but he was afraid of hurting the girls. They looked like they were fourteen.

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><p>The girls took him to one of the houses. The door opened, and a draenei woman came out. She looked at the girls, and Ethan. The boy smiled and pointed to the draenei girl hugging him.<p>

"This girl yours, ma'am?"

"Yes, Lord Ethan. Did she bring you here against your will?"

"Kinda."

The draenei girl pouted. "Mom! Move! We need to take him to the club."

Ethan smiled. "Still haven't told me what this club is."

The girls just laughed and took him into the house, and then up to the second floor, supposedly to the girl's bedroom. One of them opened the door, then they dragged him in.

Ethan stared.

Girly stuff was everywhere. Flowers were sitting in vases of water, pink covered everything, and Ethan saw that there was a whole group of girls barely into puberty sitting in front of a drawing of Arthas on the wall. It was rather good, but extremely creepy that it would be in a little girl's room.

"What the Light is this hell that I am in?"

"Ethan!" All of the girls squealed. They went running at him, and starting hugging him, touching his hair, and being very invasive. Ethan struggled, gasping.

"Girls, please! Stop. I am a married man-"

"Oh, they know. I gave them my permission though."

Sapphire came out of the closet, a box in her hands. Even more to Ethan's shock, Marwyn came out too, wearing normal clothes. He had some kind of badge pinned to his shirt.

"Hey, Ethan. Are you joining the club too?"

Ethan gaped and demanded, "What club?"

"The Arthas Menethil Fan Club. AMFC for short. The Ethan Calwood Appreciation Group is a side project," Marwyn stated. He handed Ethan something. Ethan looked at it as the girls squealed over him. It was a rounded metal pin, with colorful print on it.

_Excited for Ethan!_

"Dear Light, I am in hell."

"Don't you mean heaven?" A young night elf said, laying her head on his chest. Sapphire smiled.

"Okay, that's enough. Let's talk about my father now. Any of you still want to weigh in on the bets on when he fights again when my mother?"

Two girls went over to her and started handing Marwyn money. He put it into a box, and wrote down something on a piece of parchment. Ethan yipped like a dog when someone touched him in an uncomfortable place.

"Sapphire!"

"Girls! Leave my husband alone."

"Awww..." They left him alone, except for the draenei girl. She took a knife and quickly cut off some of Ethan's hair. He stared at her murderously.

"You do that again and I'll bite you."

"You can bite me wherever you want..." She asked wistfully. Ethan jerked back, horror on his face. She left, going back to the group.


End file.
